When Tragedy Strikes
by xFullmetalSoulx
Summary: When tragedy strikes, it leaves those around it with feelings of grief, and feeling things they haven't felt before. Losing a comrade on the battlefield, especially one you cherished, is a painful experience, not to mention, unforgettable. No flames. Read and Review. ONESHOT.


**When Tragedy Strikes**

It was as if time itself stopped. Allen felt the piercing, searing pain of the Earl's sword in his chest, and everything froze. He knew that he had failed, but he couldn't accept that. His friends still needed him, and he now knew he wouldn't be able to live up to their expectations. As badly as he wanted to fight the comforting darkness, he didn't think he could live to look them in the eyes and face his failure.

Without a thought, he let his eyes fall closed, and his body slid off the sword and down to the floor. The last thing he heard was the Earl's laughter, that evil, malicious, sadistic laughter, proving his failure and his worst moment in life was his final moment indeed.

"Allen!" Lenalee screamed when she saw his body drop. Salty tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks, trailing down to her neck. She fell to her knees, and gained the attention of her fellow comrades.

Lavi's eyes widened when he saw the Earl standing over the lifeless body of his friend. Even the Bookman's apprentice had a heart he didn't need. That heart ached as the Earl leaned over Allen's limp body with a vicious grin. He placed his hand over Allen's chest and widened his grin. "No pulse," he whispered almost inaudibly. "No pulse!" he repeated much louder this time, seemingly overjoyed with his victory, almost as if he himself hadn't expected it.

"Allen, get up," Lavi pleaded silently. His friend couldn't be dead. He couldn't! Lavi had seen Allen overcome everything people told him he wouldn't. Surely this was one of those things. Allen Walker could be alive. If he wasn't, then their hope would have died along with Allen.

Lavi's eyes stared intensely at his friend, but they didn't show him anything to give him hope. There wasn't even the slightest movement of his chest to show he was faking it, that he was about to stand up and trick the Earl. He was as still as a picture.

If this was a picture, it was a horrible one. If it was a picture that Lavi created, Allen would be the one over the body of the Earl, and he would have inscribed the words, "and they lived happily ever after." But this picture wasn't his, and he didn't have the paintbrush.

A sudden wave of pain engulfed him, and he saw red. It was as if Allen's blood had stained his eyes. He couldn't think straight. Lavi didn't know what he was doing, exactly, until he found himself with Allen's sword, charging at the Earl.

By now, Lavi and Lenalee weren't the only ones who noticed what had happened in the battle between Allen and Adam. Even Kanda, who couldn't really give a damn usually, watched with wide eyes as he began to put the pieces together.

Allen's body was on the ground. Not as a Noah, but a human being. As an Exorcist. In Lavi's hand was the sword of innocence Allen had once wielded. He was revving at full throttle against the man who orchestrated all of this suffering and unnecessary violence and hatred.

Kanda's eyes looked down at the person he claimed to hate with a deep sorrow he did not know he could ever feel. To his astonishment, a small, almost silver tear dripped from his eye. He blinked and realized that Allen Walker would not be returning to call him a jerk and threatening to cut off his hair. Allen wouldn't be there to annoy him in a friendly manner, he wouldn't be there to talk to. As much as the cold hearted samurai pretended not to care, he did in his own way. Even Allen Walker had made his way into Kanda's heart.

This couldn't be happening. The moyashi he loved to tease couldn't be the one laying on the ground surrounded and drowning in his own blood. He couldn't be the lifeless being before him. His eyes had to be playing tricks. Maybe this was a horrible nightmare, and he'd wake up, open his eyes, and scold himself for caring for the moyashi. Kanda would shrug it off and go about his day as if it were any other.

This couldn't be the end of the line. There had to be something more.

Despite that, Kanda knew this was no dream. He ached too much for it to not be real, and everything in itself felt too vivid and horrendous. Out of all the dreams Kanda had ever had, none of them had been anything like this.

Lenalee's heart wrenched at the sight of Lavi attempting to avenge their fallen comrade. The tears endlessly poured out of her eyes, much to her dismay. She hated these tears. They were the thing reminding her that one of her family was murdered before her. If those tears would go away with that ache in her chest, she could convince herself it wasn't happening.

But there would be no convincing herself of that. These images were already burned in her mind, heart, and soul. There would be no forgetting his night.

With one more heart wrenching sob, she stood to her feet and ran at the Earl with everything she had. All that pain, resentment, and ferocity was unleashed in her rage to the devilish Noah before her.

She wasn't the only one. Kanda, Chaoji, Miranda, and Marie all joined in the fight against the Earl.

They won that day. They put an end to the seemingly never ending war they hated so much and fought valiantly against. But that end did not come without its sacrifice. The boy who was loved by God was finally defeated, lost to the heavens forever.

But none of them were ever the same after that day. Lavi, who had once been so dedicated to being a bookman, left his master the day after the funeral without saying goodbye. No words were needed to explain what he was feeling.

Lenalee barely said a word to anyone, even her closest friends and brother. She rarely even smiled, and when she did, it was obvious it was forced and uncomfortable. Tears were always in her eyes, and people began to wonder if she'd ever be happy again.

Kanda did the opposite of what was expected. He didn't turn away from the company of others. He began to appreciate it, welcomed it even. Most of the time, he didn't talk, but he stayed in the presence of his friends more often than he used to, and he rarely ever snapped at anybody, finder or exorcist or scientist.

Even the Black Order wasn't the same. They put a portrait of Allen up on the blank wall in the dining hall, obviously the best placement for something like that. But it was a constant reminder that he was on the wall, not with them. Lenalee especially hated the reminders of her empty heart. Seeing his face every day, frozen in time, with the same smile as if to say "everything will be okay" felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

Lavi made every attempt to make things like they used to be, but all those attempts were in vain. His jokes just didn't have the same effect on anyone anymore. Slowly, ever so slowly, those jokes stopped altogether, and the Black Order eventually found that they had no need to continue on anymore. All akuma were destroyed. They were few and far between. They collected plenty of innocence, but there was no need anymore.

The Black Order disbanded three years, to the day, of Allen Walker's death.

None of them would forget what happens when tragedy strikes.


End file.
